


Of Crinkled Lace and Turquoise

by SweetestHoney



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Feminization, Lace Panties, Look Jaskier has a thing and he knows it and that's totally fine, M/M, Panties, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Roughness, Size Difference, Size Kink, Stockings, except he's terrified of anyone knowing, he loves being manhandled like a lot, so he hides it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23740087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetestHoney/pseuds/SweetestHoney
Summary: Jaskier may or may not have a thing for his own slight body being pressed against Geralt's much larger one, and well, anything that accentuates that difference is much welcomed.OR: Jaskier has a thing for silken panties and stockings and Geralt Cannot Handle It when he finds out
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 22
Kudos: 799
Collections: Dandelion, Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette





	Of Crinkled Lace and Turquoise

**Author's Note:**

> I have no apologies for this in the slightest, but it is for sure quite a lot of smut and not much else, so be warned. Lol.

When Jaskier first saw them, he didn’t know what he was getting into. It was in one of the seedier areas of the marketplace and he was on the hunt for something Geralt needed to make some potion or another to slay a manticore. He was in a hurry but came to a complete halt in front of the market stall. 

He nearly skidded, but righted himself with the edge of the wooden stall.

“You’ve got good eyes, kid.” 

The merchant was an old lady with a glint in her eyes that spelled trouble for Jaskier, and she stood from her stool at the edge of the display. “You looking for something for a lover, or yourself?” Jaskier choked on nothing, closing his eyes and taking long moments before he could breathe properly at the image of his  _ lover _ wearing something from the table display. 

After he got over his coughing fit, he looked back at the woman, who had taken to standing silently at his elbow. She gave him a grin that included quite a few missing teeth and he looked quickly back to the merchandise. Running his hands over the silken clothing before him, he hesitated. 

“Uh, well, myself, I guess. My lover isn’t - isn’t one for nice clothing.” The woman tutted and shook her head at him, sighing. 

“Well, it’s no use trying to force beauty on someone that doesn’t care to appreciate it, but I can tell that you at least have an eye for the finer things.” He gulped at her words. “What colors do you like?” 

Almost without his deciding to, his hands gravitated to a few of the pairs in the back, running a thumb over the lace. They were blue and green and he could think of no less than three outfits of his that they would have matched, but still he hesitated. He wasn’t sure if Geralt would have comments or not, and while he didn’t love all the barbs about his singing abilities, he was at least confident in himself enough to take them with a grain of salt. If Geralt didn’t approve of these, though, well... Jaskier didn’t know if he could handle that. 

The woman hummed at him, reaching between his arms to gather up the colors he’d lingered over and pulling them together into a small pile. He made to stop her, to protest that he couldn’t afford that many, let alone the fact that he’d not decided to buy  _ any _ of them, but she shooed away his protests with another wave of her hand. 

“Bah, it’s not always about money, don’t be ridiculous. You’ll appreciate them, that’s what I want; I’ll charge you for just the one.” She thunked a fist down on the small bundle before pulling a piece of parchment paper from under the table to wrap up his purchase. Somehow Jaskier found himself pulling out his money pouch and handing her the coins, counting twice to make sure he paid her in full – she  _ had _ given him quite a good deal, all things considered. 

When she passed the parcel over, he noted that she’d wrapped it in a thin twine so it wouldn’t come loose and he gripped it tightly, holding the bundle to his chest. She smiled at him again. 

“Th-Thank you, I really – I appreciate it, both for the help, and for the – yeah, thanks.” He grinned at her, still clutching his parcel close to his chest protectively. 

When he finally moved away from the stall, he found the apothecary fairly quickly, and to his delight they did have the ingredient Geralt needed. When he was finished there, he walked back the way he’d come, intending on thanking the old woman once more, and found the stall she stood in front of boarded up, clearly having gone home for the day. Jaskier had only been at the apothecary for about half an hour and he was surprised she’d been able to pack everything up so quickly, but he just shrugged and headed back on his way.

He reached the inn where he and Geralt were stationed without a fuss, slipping inside and hurrying to their shared room so he could put his purchases away without anyone discovering what he’d bought. When he entered the room, he found Geralt seated at the table, clearly in the middle of brewing. 

“Ah, Geralt! Perfect! I found the scales you needed – they had them after all,” Jaskier said, walking over to where Geralt sat. He dropped the small package onto the table next to Geralt, earning a grunt of acknowledgement. Geralt didn’t take his eyes off the brew as he reached out and picked up the small package, looking it over carefully. 

Jaskier used Geralt’s focus on brewing as a convenient escape, and as he moved over to his own things, he pulled out the package he’d gotten from the woman. 

“Geralt, is there a such thing as a monster that sells things you desire? Like a djinn or something but with reasonable prices and quick exits?” Jaskier raised his voice as he spoke, wanting Geralt to hear the question. 

“Hmm?” Geralt grunted distractedly before blinking and lifting his head. “No, not that I’ve ever heard of.” He frowned. “Why, did you get attacked at the marketplace or something?” 

Jaskier gave him an uncomfortable kind of laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck as he turned around, package safely stowed in his bags. “No, no reason, just curious. I was thinking as I was shopping, I guess, just wondering.” He waved a hand through the air, dropping it after a moment as Geralt gave him a long, studying look before grunting and turning back to his alchemy. 

“Then no, that’s not a thing. You should stop trying to make up monsters; there’s already too many of them for me to fight as it is.” Geralt’s voice was back to his normal annoyance, and Jaskier heaved a sigh of relief. 

He wandered over to Geralt, dropping hands on the larger man’s back and tracing the muscles there. “Well, maybe after you’re done with that you can find the time to fuck me so hard that my legs stop working before dinner, if you feel like it.”  _ That _ got a response, and Geralt straightened, moving his around to wrap large hands around Jaskier’s waist. 

With Geralt still seated, Jaskier was taller than him. Geralt leaned forward, nosing at the skin exposed as he pushed Jaskier’s shirt up, nipping with teeth and worrying a bruise onto Jaskier’s hip. “Hmm, I might be able to do that.” His voice darkened considerably from where it was moments before and Jaskier giggled, his hands pushing into Geralt’s hair and drawing it back from his face. 

“Mmhh, ahh, Geralt – that’s–” Jaskier keened as Geralt bit down on a particularly sensitive area and tugged, using the grip on Geralt’s hair to move his head back. Jaskier was already panting and Geralt looked up at him, a small smirk on his face. Jaskier did so love it when Geralt was rough with him, and Geralt knew it. 

Without telegraphing what he was going to do, Geralt hooked his hands behind Jaskier’s thighs and stood in one smooth motion, pulling the other man with him and holding him tight against his body. Jaskier let out an embarrassing squeak and threw his arms around Geralt, clinging tight in fear he’d fall. 

Geralt chuckled lowly and Jaskier pouted, pulling Geralt closer and kissing him in order to shut him up. Geralt returned the kiss, walking the few steps over to the bed and breaking the kiss when he unceremoniously dropped Jaskier onto the mattress. Jaskier opened his mouth to protest the treatment (really, he loved it, but he wasn’t about to tell Geralt that, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Geralt knew anyway, the bastard) but Geralt was already climbing onto the bed on top of him, pushing his thighs apart and settling between them. 

“Hmm.” Jaskier rolled his eyes when Geralt hummed again, just looking at him. He started squirming, trying to Geralt to  _ do something _ and Geralt hushed him absently, spreading one large hand over Jaskier’s stomach and pressing him down firmly to keep him in place. Jaskier whimpered, wiggling and trying to buck into Geralt’s body, finding the grip perfectly restraining him from finding any kind of friction. 

“Geralt,  _ please, _ come on, what are you waiting for?” Jaskier’s face flushed even as he spoke the words, watching as Geralt just  _ stared _ at him. 

“Hmm, just looking. You’re - you’re small.” Jaskier, upon hearing that, huffed angrily, puffing his chest and rearing up for a fight. Geralt used his other hand to push on Jaskier’s shoulders, easily moving him so he was leaning back against the bed. “I wasn’t insulting your manhood, Jas, just saying you’re - you’re skinnier than I am.” His fingers caressed Jaskier’s shoulders, other thumb brushing along Jaskier’s hip. “You’re – not womanly, by any means, but maybe  _ dainty _ . It’s a nice contrast.” Jaskier sighed, accepting the compliment and settling back onto the bed. 

“Hmmph, well. You’ve saved yourself this time, but if you ever call me  _ small _ while you’re between my legs again we will have  _ words _ , Geralt.” He sniffed and Geralt chuckled, leaning forward to lick along his neck, inhaling deeply. 

“Don’t worry, I think you’re safe from that.” He gave a roll of his hips, pressing against Jaskier, and Jaskier groaned. He went boneless in Geralt’s arms, enjoying the press of Geralt’s thick erection against his own, the feeling of teeth against his neck. “Mmm, Jaskier.” Geralt saying his name in  _ that voice _ never failed to get Jaskier going and he whimpered, bucking into Geralt’s touches. 

“More, Geralt, come on, don’t make me wait–” Geralt pulled back and made quick work of their clothes, tugging off Jaskier’s pants last with impatient movements. Jaskier scooted back so he could get them off and then as soon as they were free from his body, he found strong hands gripping his ankles and  _ pulling _ so his thighs were wrapped around Geralt’s hips, his ass pressed against where Geralt was rubbing his very erect cock. He moaned, moving his hips against Geralt’s and panting as he tried to get friction on his cock as well. 

“How do you want it?” Geralt murmured the words as he pressed kisses down Jaskier’s chest, making an impressive attempt to fold himself completely in half as he leaned over to lick over the head of Jaskier’s cock, tasting him. Jaskier bucked his hips at the sensation and Geralt pulled back, shooting a dirty smile at him. 

“G-Geralt, if you don’t start fucking me in the next ten seconds, I swear–” Jaskier cut off as he felt one of Geralt’s hands pressing against his hole, already slick –  _ and when did he even grab the oil? _ – and pushing one deliciously thick finger into him. He groaned, bearing down and trying to get more of the finger Geralt was working into him, and Geralt hushed him, rubbing his other hand over Jaskier’s hip again. 

“Hush, you’ll get all of me; you just have to be patient.” Geralt’s tone was reassuring and Jaskier quieted, letting Geralt finger him open, quickly and just this side of painful, loving every second. Once he’d been stretched enough, Jaskier worked his hands back into Geralt’s hair, tugging at him. 

“Geralt, that’s enough, come on, Geralt just–” Jaskier groaned, encouraging Geralt to move and writhing under the other man’s ministrations. Geralt simply hummed again and licked a path up Jaskier’s chest, finally reaching his mouth and licking into him in a filthy display of power, Jaskier’s mewling swallowed up by that talented tongue. 

When Jaskier felt the push of Geralt’s cock at his entrance he nearly sobbed, his feet pushing against Geralt’s back in an attempt to force him all the way in. Geralt resisted all of his attempts easily and took his sweet time pushing into Jaskier, every inch a marathon. When he bottomed out at last, Jaskier clung to him, chest heaving. 

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” Jaskier’s tone was sharp but most of the bite was taken out of his words on account of his breathlessness. Geralt chuckled again, posting himself up on his elbows to look Jaskier in the eyes. 

“Well, now I don’t know, am I?” Geralt’s eyes went wide when Jaskier growled at him in response to the words, his frustration evident. He rolled his eyes at the smaller man and with a sharp motion pulled nearly completely out before slamming home, managing to perfectly find Jaskier’s prostate on the first go. Jaskier’s whole body tensed and then went limp, his mouth falling open and his eyes rolling back into his head. 

Geralt set a brutal pace after that, fucking into Jaskier hard and fast, his hands wrapped tightly around Jaskier’s thighs to hold his hips up so he could brush his sweet spot with every stroke. After what could have anywhere from seconds to hours – Jaskier couldn’t tell – Geralt snuck one hand between their bodies to wrap around his cock, jerking him in time with his thrusts. 

Jaskier was beyond words, his only sounds either pants or moans as he wrapped his arms around Geralt, holding on for dear life. “G-Geralt, I’m close – going to–” Geralt grunted in acknowledgement and sped his movements further, dropping his head to bite Jaskier’s shoulder hard enough to bruise. Jaskier came with a scream, biting the skin in front of him in an attempt to muffle himself. He was followed seconds after by Geralt and he felt the teeth in his shoulder clamp down a shade harder; it was painful, but more pleasure than pain, even if he was sure to have a bruise that lasted days. 

Once they finished coming, Geralt collapsed against Jaskier, barely keeping himself from crushing the smaller man as they both tried to catch their breath. Jaskier reached a hand up to run his fingers through Geralt’s hair as they came down from the intense orgasm, the sweat cooling on their skin. 

“That was–” Jaskier’s voice was weak, but Geralt nodded lazily from where his head had fallen against Jaskier’s chest. 

“Yeah, it was good. Better than.” Jaskier grinned, enjoying the positive sentiment from his usually taciturn lover. 

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath and shoved, pushing so Geralt pulled out of him with a slick noise and rolled off of his body, coming to a halt to Jaskier’s side. Jaskier maneuvered their bodies so he was pressed against Geralt’s chest, his nose pressed against the warmth there and his fingers curling lazily in the other man’s chest hair. 

How long they lay there, he wasn’t sure, but eventually Geralt rose to finish his potion, and Jaskier levered himself to a seated position as well, watching the other man work. 

Contrary to what most would think, if Jaskier wasn’t being obnoxious and talking about his conquests, they got on rather well, with Jaskier disappearing at night to earn coin in the inns and Geralt dealing with the monsters of the town, of which there seemed to be many. Jaskier would have been annoyed except they needed the coin and the extended stay meant he could actually take his time and play through his whole rotation instead of having to only do the same ten or twenty songs that did the best. 

When Geralt got back after the third day they’d been in town with a grimace, however, Jaskier got worried. 

“Don’t tell me there’s something truly dangerous, Geralt.” Geralt looked up from where he’d been studying his potions carefully in preparation for the job. 

“Not dangerous, just far. There’s supposed to be some drowners in one of the larger swimming holes in the area, only it’s nearly a full day’s hike. It’ll be boring, but I won’t be back for two days.” Geralt’s words were monotone, most of his focus on his potions. 

Jaskier frowned. “That’s a long way away for just some drowners; why would you take a job that far?” 

Geralt shrugged and finally looked up, making eye contact with him. “The man that asked me to go clean them out – his son was killed. Apparently they’ve been there for years and the townspeople just avoided the spot, but the man’s son decided to take a romantic trip with his girlfriend, assuming they’d be gone by now. The man doesn’t want any other stupid kids getting hurt.” Jaskier nodded at the information, taking it in. Geralt continued. “You shouldn’t come with me; you’ve seen me kill drowners and I don’t want to hear you moaning about walking for two days straight.” 

Jaskier considered the command, and thought about the package still wrapped in it’s paper packaging at the bottom of his bags. “Sure, I’ll stay here, try to earn some more coin while you’re off saving the village morons.” He patted Geralt on the shoulder, giving him a sunny smile. “Why Geralt, I bet I’ll have made us enough for a month on the road by the time you return.” Geralt grunted again but Jaskier could tell he was amused at the needling, and he dropped his hand from Geralt’s shoulder. “When are you heading off then?” Geralt shrugged and slipped three of the small vials into his coat pockets. 

“As soon as I can, since I’d rather get back faster.” 

Jaskier nodded again, thinking over his plans for the time without Geralt. He sat at the small table, watching Geralt finish preparing for the hunt. Once he was ready, Geralt turned to Jaskier. 

“Well.” 

Jaskier knew what he wasn’t saying and he stood, striding over to the large and broody man. “Well, it’s not a proper goodbye without a proper goodbye kiss, is it?” Geralt grunted again, his hands coming up to tug intently at Jaskier, pulling him close. When he leaned in, Jaskier kissed him with all he had, deepening the kiss swiftly and wedging a thigh in between Geralt’s thighs to a groan as their erections rubbed together. 

Geralt broke the kiss, panting slightly, and took a step back as he released Jaskier. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening. I know you have the ability to get in trouble given an hour, but please try not to get yourself into anything too bad while I’m not here.” Jaskier, dazed from the kiss, didn’t even put up his token protests, and then Geralt was gone. 

Jaskier waited a good while after Geralt left, to be sure he hadn’t forgotten something, before he retrieved his parcel, fingers trembling with excitement. He untied it and laid out each of the pairs on the bed, studying each one as he fought to contain himself. He still needed to perform that night, as they did need the money, so he forced himself down, ignoring his building arousal in favor of carefully selecting an outfit for that night. Once he knew the clothes he would wear, he turned back to his secret, studying carefully. 

The shirt he’d wear to perform that night was blue, and he lifted the silken underclothes carefully, holding each up to study the colors against the blue of the shirt. That nobody would see him in them was of no importance; it was the principal of the thing. He settled on the turquoise pair with sea foam colored lace, and lay them out next to the shirt and trousers. 

His heart was beating fast, and he sat for a moment, trying to calm it. When sitting did nothing but make him more aware of the hard line of his erection pressing against his stomach he sighed, he gave in to the temptation to touch himself and pulled open his pants with quick, short movements. 

Running his hand over his own skin, he teased briefly, flicking one nipple and gasping at the sensation before rubbing the other between thumb and forefinger until it pebbled beneath his touch. He’d intended this to be simply perfunctory, in order to not be indecent when he finally dressed, but he couldn’t resist playing a little, teasing out his own pleasure. As he ran hands over his own body, he glanced towards the outfit on the bed again in thought. Instead of continuing with his ministrations, he shucked his pants and smallclothes, tugging his shirt off as well. 

Standing naked, he ran a hand over the silk before picking it up and sliding it up his legs. When the underwear came to a halt he was delighted to find it fit perfectly, his dick an obscene bulge against the soft silk and lace panties. The cut was so that it didn’t hurt his circulation or press uncomfortably and he put another check mark in the list of reasons that the old lady was probably a sorceress before disregarding the thought. 

He ran a hand over himself, groaning as he saw the spot where his precum was soaking through the thin fabric already, beading at the head of his erection. When he picked up the other half of the small bundle of fabric he shivered, holding it up to the light. Silky translucent stockings ending in garters that came to midthigh flowed through his hands, the fabric like water. Holding his breath, he slipped them up his legs, fastening the garters to the underwear with a small bow on each leg. 

The room they’d gotten came with a mirror next to the washbowl, and he walked over to it, each step a soft crunch as his toes met floor through lace. The texture of the stockings made him feel like his feet were lighter, like every movement should have more purpose behind it, and he closed his eyes when he got to the mirror, unsure if he really wanted to see or not. 

He forced himself to open his eyes, making eye contact with his reflection before letting his gaze slide down. While he had a moderate amount of hair on his chest, his legs were actually fairly slender and shapely (earning him quite a lot of remarks from the women he bedded, all complimentary of course) and he gasped when he saw the reflection of himself fully. 

The stockings and garters clung to his skin, emphasising his legs in a way that was most becoming, and the small gap of revealed skin only served as a tease, despite the fact that the stockings hid  _ nothing _ , his erection standing out starkly through the panties. He only spared half a thought to his leg hair – it wasn’t all that noticeable, but a shiver ran down his spine as he considered shaving it like some ladies at court were fond of. 

He palmed himself roughly, pressing his hand down over the thin cloth and groaning. The idea of taking a straight razor to his legs, the slight danger coupled with the feeling of silky smoothness was intoxicating, and as he squeezed his eyes closed in pleasure he was greeted in his mind with the image of Geralt being the one to help him, those strong sturdy hands guiding the razor up and down his skin, soothing as he went. 

It didn’t take long for him to find completion once he slipped a hand under the waistline of the panties, his hand moved with a sense of urgency as he worked at himself, rough skin providing just the right amount of friction. 

When he came, he stuck his knuckles in his mouth, biting down to keep from crying out. With the last fraction of his brain that was still online he managed to catch most of the come in his hand, not wanting to dirty the beautiful silk. He sunk to his knees wearily, trying not to fall over with how hard he’d orgasmed, and licked the release off his hand for want of somewhere to wipe it or the willpower to move himself back over to the bed. 

After a few moments of kneeling, he finally got his head back enough to climb to his feet and then collapse in the chair by the table, still panting slightly. 

“That was – wow.” He spoke to the empty room, dazed and still reeling at how hard he’d come. 

After another few minutes, he felt halfway back to normal and he picked himself up, looking down at the state of his clothing. There were a few spots of precum on the silk, but other than that they were fairly clean, and he shrugged. If the slight wetness did anything, it just served to let him know that as soon as his body was able, he’d be hard and wanting again. 

Ignoring the wants of his dick, he gathered his clothes and pulled them on over the underwear, double checking to make sure no parts of the stockings could be seen under the cuffs of his trousers. Confident that he’d taken care of it, he picked up his lute and made his way downstairs, intent on earning enough coin that when Geralt came back they could both bathe without the vague guilty feeling he got at spending the money on baths. 

The inn was bustling and his evening was good – Geralt had earned enough goodwill in the town already that ‘toss a coin to your witcher’ made him enough to pay for two baths on its own, and he launched into his newest ballad after that, a high spirited tale about two lovers forced to wed in secret for fear of angering their families. 

The night went by fairly quickly and Jaskier surprised himself by forgetting about the silken underthings mostly, only remembering he had them on when he shifted his sitting position. After about an hour of playing he attempted to stand and play while walking, but he only made it about halfway across the room before realizing that the constant motion caused the panties to rub his dick in a way that was entirely too nice and would probably result in him getting booed out of the inn for indecent exposure. 

So he sat in the corner and played, earning plenty of coin and continuing to play as long as the crowd stayed reasonably happy. He’d been there the last few nights and he knew that word had spread around the small town by now, so most of the patrons were the ones that wanted to hear music into the long hours of the evening. 

Indeed, it was a few hours after midnight when he finally considered ending his performance, and there were still quite a few patrons drinking and listening to him. The lateness of the hour meant he could play some of his more maudelin songs, plus denying himself the pleasure of going upstairs was a delicious torture of the highest order, so he played on, choosing slower songs that he almost never got to play. 

When the door to the inn banged open and Geralt walked in, Jaskier stood smiling, glad to see his friend unhurt. As soon as he moved, however, he realized he still wore the silken underthings under his clothing and his heart dropped into his stomach. Geralt made eye contact with him across the room for only a second before dropping it, walking towards the stairs with a purposeful gait. 

Jaskier gulped, his mind (which had been sleepy and warm only seconds before) whirling. He hadn’t told Geralt about this particular fascination, and while he’d carefully packed up the rest of the underwear and stuffed them back in his bags, Geralt would be awake and waiting for him upstairs. Geralt always wanted to fuck after a hunt, needing to exercise the last of his witcher potions and aderaline from his system before he could sleep, and usually Jaskier had no complaints. But this time he had no way to get out of Geralt seeing what he was wearing, and he wasn’t sure how the other man would respond. 

Geralt had said he liked Jaskier’s lithe body, the contrast they made, but that was entirely separate from an enjoyment of this particular kink, and he didn’t know that Geralt wouldn’t be disgusted with him. He’d never heard the other man say anything derogatory towards any of the male concubines they encountered in the noble courts, but Jaskier found that  _ many  _ thought they had no prejudices when in fact they did. 

Either way, he wasn’t getting out of it, so he might as well face his fate. He ended the song and bid the remaining listeners a good night, collecting the last round of applause and coins tossed in his direction before making his own way up the stairs. 

He pushed open the door to their room gently, hoping Geralt would be understanding, and found himself pulled inside by large hands, slammed back against the door as one of Geralt’s knees pressed between his own, slotting their bodies together. 

“Hello, Jaskier.” Geralt’s breath came in pants against his neck and he arched into the other man’s touch, seeking friction. The thigh against his dick rubbed him through the silk in a way that made him nearly lightheaded with arousal but he forced it back, trying to keep clear-headed. 

“Geralt, I thought – you said you’d be back tomorrow evening; what happened?” Geralt was nosing down his neck, taking tastes of his skin here and there as he worked. He didn’t answer Jaskier immediately, and Jaskier knotted hands into his hair, tugging it back so he could look the larger man in the eye. “Geralt?” 

Geralt rolled his eyes and answered him with a huff. “The man I talked with must have only ever traveled to the pond on foot, since it took me half the time to reach it as he said it would on Roach. I killed the drowners and decided that if I wanted to make it back and sleep in a real bed, I could. So I did.” It was more than Jaskier sometimes got, and he sighed, letting his head thunk back against the door. “Jaskier, why are you – what’s wrong?” 

Jaskier flinched at the question, closing his eyes instead of looking at Geralt. He couldn’t look the other man in the eye. Geralt straightened, frowning, and looked Jaskier over. “You’re not hurt, are you?” He shook his head. “Not been visiting any wives or daughters you shouldn’t have?” 

Before Jaskier could stop him, Geralt dropped to his knees, pressing his nose to Jaskier’s crotch and inhaling deeply - scenting him. “No, you haven’t, although you did touch yourself while I was gone.” Jaskier cracked his eyes to see Geralt looking up at him with a wicked grin on his face. “You couldn’t wait five hours, Jaskier?” 

When he didn’t answer with a quip or a sarcastic comment, the smile slipped from Geralt’s face once again, the look of concern taking it over once more. “Well come on, Jaskier, you’re the one insisting I don’t talk enough, and you’ve gone and become a mute while I was gone.” 

Jaskier inhaled and it was a jagged thing, not quite a sob but more broken than he’d intended. Geralt pressed his hand against Jaskier’s erection through his clothes, which wasn’t diminished in the slightest despite his worry over what Geralt would think of him. Finally after a herculean effort, Jaskier managed to find his words. 

“There was – there was a woman, in the market, who had these – and I wasn’t going to stop to look, I wasn’t, but they were  _ beautiful _ and I just – I couldn’t help myself; I don’t want you to think I’m a – pervert, stealing them from women or something, oh, it’s just – fuck, this is hard. Now I understand why you never want to talk.” He groaned, annoyed at the lack of words to appropriately convey to Geralt what he needed him to know, and his hands came down to fumble with the laces of his trousers, shaking so badly that he struggled to undo them. He stilled when Geralt’s hands engulfed his own. 

“May I?” Geralt’s voice was soft now, imploring, and Jaskier sighed and nodded, pulling his hands away so Geralt could undo the laces. He did, untying them slowly and diligently, his eyes focused on the task. When he finished with the ties, he looked up to Jaskier briefly before pulling them down, revealing the underwear. At Geralt’s small gasp, Jaskier could no longer keep from looking at his face. 

Geralt’s expression was shocked; he’d clearly not expected  _ this, _ and he reached out to brush over the turquoise silk with his fingertips before pulling his hand away. Jaskier wasn’t sure if the reaction was positive or negative and he held his breath, waiting. Geralt didn’t speak immediately, instead tugging on the pants until they fell further, revealing the ties and then the garters, the lace of the stockings. He kept going until he was guiding Jaskier’s feet gently out of the pants and setting them aside, his hands coming to rest against the backs of Jaskier’s calves. 

“So, well. It’s not - it’s not conventional, and I wasn’t – I hadn’t thought about it before I saw them but I couldn’t - I couldn’t resist.” Jaskier’s voice was small and he bit his lip, worrying the flesh there. 

Geralt looked up at him from where he still knelt, and Jaskier tried to read his thoughts from his expression. 

“Jaskier, these are – you’re–” He seemed at a loss for words and instead looked back down, one hand moving to cup Jaskier where he was still hard and straining against the silk. Jaskier whimpered, the touch nearly too much after such a long night and such a stressful revelation, and that small sound seemed to break something in Geralt. 

So fast his vision became nothing but a blur, Jaskier found himself thrown onto the bed, Geralt climbing over him and easily gathering his wrists with one hand, holding them above his head. He made a noise, not expecting the movement, and then Geralt was kissing him, so desperately he felt like he might drown, right here and now with Geralt of Rivia licking into his mouth like it held the secrets of the universe. 

“Jaskier, you are – I didn’t think it was possible for you to be more attractive but I was  _ wrong _ .” Jaskier gasped at Geralt’s rough tone, his ears catching that Geralt wasn’t upset or angry, and he felt the last of the tension leave his body, going boneless against Geralt. He still had to be sure, though. 

“You’re - you’re not upset?” Jaskier’s voice was faint and Geralt growled at the question. 

“Upset? Why would I be upset with you? Turned on so badly that I can’t think straight, yes, but not upset.” Jaskier resisted the urge to break into tears at the revelation that Geralt didn’t hate him, but instead he worked his wrists free of Geralt’s loose grip and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s back, bucking up into him with a delicious friction. 

“I’m - I’m glad, Geralt.” His words were shaky and he closed his eyes as Geralt moved down his body, mouthing at his erection through the silk of his underwear, the sight almost too much. “There are those that would – frown at such things, silly as it might be.” He sucked in a breath, willing away the thoughts of the Count of Duriel, who had been less than pleased to find Jaskier in his bed in nothing but a pair of silken underthings, much to Jaskier’s surprise. 

Geralt growled again, looking up at Jaskier with a fire in his golden eyes. “Whoever could see you like this and not need to  _ have _ you immediately is a fool.” Jaskier didn’t get a chance to respond to that, seeing as Geralt ducked his head once more to mouth along the length of him, wetting the thin silk obscenely with his saliva and Jaskier’s precome. 

Jaskier gasped and arched up into the inviting mouth, letting Geralt get his hands under Jaskier’s hips and pull him closer, urging him to thrust against Geralt’s skilled tongue and lips. He did just that, keening as Geralt hooked his thumbs in the waistband and pulled them just far enough down that Jaskier’s erection sprung free, coming to rest achingly hard against his stomach. Geralt didn’t remove the underwear, instead leaving it right where it was and sucking Jaskier down in one rough go, his nose brushing the soft hairs of Jaskier’s stomach. 

Jaskier’s body jackknifed, trying to thrust up into the warmth of Geralt’s mouth. His hands gripped Geralt’s hair tightly, unsure whether he wanted to pull Geralt closer or push him away, already too close to the edge of orgasm. 

“Ger-Geralt, I’m – if you don’t stop, I’m going to – this will probably be over all too fast–” Geralt just hummed, tongue swirling around the head of Jaskier’s dick as he pulled off to breathe through his nose before diving back down. He looked up at Jaskier, pupils blown wide with lust, and that was all it took before Jaskier was crying out and spilling down Geralt’s throat. 

Geralt swallowed it all, throat working greedily, and once Jaskier was mewling, overstimulated as he came down from his orgasm, Geralt finally pulled off of him. He pressed gentle kitten licks to Jaskier’s cock, cleaning the remnants off him until Jaskier groaned, hands moving weakly as he tried to push Geralt’s head away. 

“No more, you insatiable man, I’m – I need a moment.” When Jaskier didn’t get a response to that right away, he cracked his eyes, needing to gauge Geralt’s expression. What he didn’t expect to see was Geralt kneeling between his legs, hand on his own cock as he fisted it roughly, his eyes lidded as he looked at Jaskier. “Geralt, you’re – here, let me–” 

When Jaskier reached to take Geralt’s cock, levering himself up on his elbows, Geralt groaned. Jaskier brushed Geralt’s hands away from his erection, taking over for him, and Geralt leaned down to kiss him while his hands moved overheated skin. 

After a few moments of stroking, Jaskier looked down, taking Geralt in. He looked absolutely  _ wrecked _ , eyes blown and panting as he stared at Jaskier like it would physically hurt to take his eyes off all of the creamy skin and silken fabric in front of him. The clear wanton  _ need _ in his eyes made Jaskier bold, more than he would have expected. He pulled his hands from Geralt’s erection, pushing himself back and into a seated position on the bed. 

Geralt looked up clumsily, eyes finding his face as he frowned. “Jaskier – what–” Jaskier shook his head, pulling Geralt to him and kissing him deeply. Once they broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against Geralt’s. 

“You’ve access to all of me and you’d be sated with my hands?” Geralt blinked at Jaskier’s words. “Come now, Witcher, I’m sure you can think of some place you could put this.” He gripped Geralt’s erection firmly before letting go and the man let out a breath like he’d been punched in the gut. “That would be better than just spilling yourself across my stomach.” 

Geralt nodded, still seeming dazed with the strength of his lust, but he managed to draw himself up, settling back on his haunches. Jaskier cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, feeling more confident, and Geralt grinned slowly as he looked the smaller man up and down. 

Without warning, Geralt pounced, grabbing Jaskier and roughly flipping him over so his head was buried in the pillows, his ass sticking up, and Jaskier moaned, loving it. He’d had to train Geralt to be rough with him, to manhandle him with his superior strength, because Geralt had been  _ so _ afraid of hurting him, but once they were on the same page, the sex was  _ glorious _ . 

Geralt didn’t waste any time and he leaned over to bite at Jaskier’s ass through the panties, teeth clamping down on the supple flesh before him. Jaskier groaned again, rocking back into the sensation, and Geralt let go only to lick the bite, soothing over the worst of the pain. When he pulled back Jaskier moaned in protest, but Geralt didn’t go far, pulling back only to readjust himself on the bed, shifting his knees down so he could put his face level with Jaskier’s ass. 

He pulled the panties down slightly, not all the way off, but tugging so they sat just under the curve of Jaskier’s ass, exposing him to Geralt. Before Jaskier could feel self-conscious, Geralt leaned down and licked a broad swath across his hole, causing the smaller man to gasp and spread his knees, trying to give Geralt easier access. 

“G-Geralt, come on,  _ please _ –” Jaskier’s voice was broken, his mind unable to string together many more words than ‘fuck’ and ‘Geralt’ and ‘please’ but Geralt just hummed like he did whenever Jasker had finally done something he approved of, licking against his hole with more force, tongue working Jaskier open. Jaskier felt himself already getting hard again, nearly bypassing his usual refractory time and rocketing him towards the edge again like he hadn’t just come. 

Jaskier whined and groaned and writhed as Geralt licked him open torturously slowly, finally adding one finger once Jaskier was sopping wet and panting. He quickly added another, still licking at Jaskier as he pumped his fingers in and out, stretching him. When he added a third, Jaskier bucked his hips, groaning against the pillow. 

“Geralt, if you don’t fuck me in the next three minutes I am going to go downstairs and find someone else who will.” Jaskier’s voice was still rough, and he pushed back against the fingers in his ass, trying to get more. 

Geralt growled at him again, a warning, and Jaskier felt him pull his fingers out completely. Before he could start crying at the loss, he felt those huge hands come up to palm his ass roughly, pulling him up and onto his knees and shoving them open further. Something wet touched his ass and he realized Geralt must have gotten oil at some point and coated himself. Geralt moved forward, putting his mouth next to Jaskier’s ear and rubbing his dick against Jaskier’s ass in a tease that had him squirming. “Jas, if you even  _ think _ about letting another man see you like  _ this _ –” He ran a hand down and snapped the elastic band of the garters around Jaskier’s thighs. “Then I will have to hunt them down, because you are  _ mine _ . Nobody else gets to see you in these.” 

Without letting Jaskier answer (not that he could have found the words to answer if he tried) Geralt finally pushed into the smaller man, sinking into him slowly but steadily, and Jaskier nearly sobbed as he felt the thick cock stretching him open. Geralt hadn’t pushed his underwear down much further, so the fabric around his thighs served to keep them together, making Geralt feel even larger as he forced Jaskier down his length. 

When Geralt was fully seated inside him, he paused, thumbs rubbing circles into Jaskier’s lower back. Jaskier was already far too close to the edge, the combination of Geralt and the underwear and the foreplay making him nearly desperate to come. He tried to move, to push back against Geralt and beg for more but Geralt held his hips firmly. 

“No, Jaskier. You get what I give you and no more.” Jaskier whimpered again, nodding shallowly at the order, and resigned himself to waiting for Geralt to move. When Geralt finally started moving, he set a slow pace, pulling nearly all the way out and then thrusting back into Jaskier so deep that Jaskier wondered idly if he’d be able to taste it when Geralt came. Each thrust grazed his prostate and he couldn’t do anything but rock back against the long hard lines of Geralt’s body, aching for him. 

Jaskier felt his orgasm rushing towards him despite the lackadaisical pace and he turned his head, needing to warn Geralt. “Going to - gonna–” Geralt didn’t slow his pace or speed up, just kept fucking into him steadily. 

Geralt did lean forward to growl in Jaskier’s ear though, his words not much more than breath. “Are you going to come on just my dick, Jaskier? Going to stain all that pretty silk for me?” It was just enough to push Jaskier over the edge and he came with a sob, his hands gripping the pillow in front of him tightly as he did. 

Geralt followed behind him after another couple thrusts, pressing his forehead against Jaskier’s spine and spilling himself with a groan. Once they were both spent, Geralt pulled out of Jaskier and collapsed to his side. His arms came up to gather Jaskier to him, pulling him bodily against Geralt’s chest with no mind to the mess between them. Jaskier let himself be moved, enjoying the feeling of Geralt pressed close, his nose pressed against Jaskier’s hair as his breaths evened out. 

After a few minutes of laying there, Jaskier stirred and pushed away from Geralt slightly, wincing as he felt the stickiness on his stomach and between his thighs. When he moved, he realized he was still mostly wearing the silken underthings, the panties pushed down his thighs and the garters still firmly in place. He groaned, moving to take them off so he could clean up, but stopped when Geralt’s hands came to rest on top of his own. 

He turned around to look Geralt in the eyes, searching for something he wasn’t sure of in Geralt’s expression. Geralt seemed to be unsure himself and opened his mouth before closing it again, frowning. Jaskier took pity on him and gave up trying to remove the underwear, instead settling back down into Geralt’s arms. 

Geralt eventually found his voice, the low tones rumbling through his chest in a way that Jaskier liked the feeling of as he lay pressed against the man. “You – I didn’t mean to say that you couldn’t wear them for anyone else. I was – I know you’re not one for monogamy, Jas, and we’ve been fine til now, I just – seeing you in those made me lose my head a little.” 

Jaskier warmed at the words and twisted in Geralt’s grip so he could face him, looking up into his eyes. “That’s admirable of you, and I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’ll be wearing those for anyone else any time soon.” Geralt breathed out loudly at his words, but it wasn’t a sigh so much as it felt like he’d been holding his breath in anticipation for Jaskier’s answer. His arms tightened around Jaskier for a moment, acknowledging. 

Jaskier smiled then, a dirty thought coming to his mind. “I don’t even know if these are wearable any more, they’re so covered with come, and it’ll be hell to wash it out.” He sighed dramatically. “I may have to just throw them out.” Geralt growled in his ear in clear disapproval, but Jaskier kept talking. “Oh well, we’ll have just have to make do with the four other pairs I got in addition to these.” 

As he watched Geralt’s face while he processed the words, Jaskier decided that if he could, he would one day commission someone to paint a portrait of Geralt making the expression he wore at that very instant – a mixture of lust, need, confusion, annoyance, and (in Jaskier’s opinion, anyway) love. After a moment Geralt growled again, moving so he was again looming over Jaskier, his face inches from the bard. 

“You have more?” His breath was warm and Jaskier nodded at him. Geralt kissed him then, pouring a whole lot of emotion he couldn’t say aloud into the kiss and running his hands up to tug at Jaskier’s hair, tilting his head back and deepening the kiss. Jaskier kissed back with equal fervor, letting Geralt dominate him. When they finally broke apart, they were both panting and Jaskier looked down his own body where his cock was trying valiantly to get hard for a third time. 

He gave a weak chuckle and batted at Geralt, pushing him over once more and climbing out of the bed. “As much as I enjoy you brutalizing me, Geralt, I really must clean myself up and set these to soak if I don’t want them to be irredeemably ruined.” Geralt let him go, but his eyes followed Jaskier’s movements like a hawk. Jaskier stripped off the garters and stockings and then eased the silken underwear down his legs, folding them loosely and walking to his bag to retrieve the special cleaning solution he’d been saving for when Geralt got covered in the hardest to clean monster stains. He threw the underwear into a bucket with some water and a few drops of the solution to soak, and then turned back to the bed. 

Geralt was still watching him with a hungry look on his face, and when Jaskier caught his eye he grinned, showing his canines. Jaskier shivered (though not from the cold) and quickly grabbed a damp rag to clean them both up before rejoining Geralt on the bed. Geralt took the rag and, with a nod from Jaskier, spread Jaskier’s legs before wiping him down gently, paying special attention to his sensitive cock and his hole, where he was still leaking come. 

Once they were clean, Geralt pulled Jaskier so he was spooned around him once more, his arms coming around Jaskier to bracket his chest. Jaskier settled back into the hold, content to doze. 

“So, other pairs? Are you going to tell me what other colors you have?” At Geralt’s mumbled question, Jaskier just laughed and shook his head no, snuggling back into Geralt’s grip and falling asleep. 


End file.
